Miss Demeanor
by dancerox1997
Summary: Anastasia Steele's college years are coming to a close, just as Christian Grey's business is in full swing. He has generously offered one student at WSU Vancouver an opportunity to obtain an internship for the summer. Ana, working at Clayton's, is disinterested until her roommate feigns an illness in an attempt to break Ana out of her cage, thus forcing her to fill in for Kate.
1. Preparation

**Hey everyone! So, I'm not new to FanFiction, but I'm new to the Fifty Shades fandom.**

**... Well, kind of. I've read the series quite a few times, and I obsess over the trailer... Somewhat often.**

**So, yeah! Anyway, this is just a random idea I got, and thought I'd try it out! Enjoy it! :)**

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><p><em>Chapter Song:<em>

_Ain't It Fun by Paramore  
><em>

_(Simply because nothing too major happened in this chapter that a specific song could relate to it.)_

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><p><span><em>Miss Demeanor<em>

Brief Summary:

Anastasia Steele's college years are coming to a close, just as Christian Grey's business is in full swing. He has generously offered one student at WSU Vancouver an opportunity to obtain an internship for the summer. Ana, working at Clayton's, is disinterested until her roommate feigns an illness in an attempt to break Ana out of her cage, thus forcing her to fill in for Kate's spot by going to _her_ interview. What will Mr. Grey think of Ana, and what will Ana think of him?

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><p>Prologue<p>

Ana

Here's the thing: I was perfectly content with my life. I was about to graduate from WSU Vancouver as an English major, with a flawless GPA. I had a steady job; sure, it was at a hardware store, but it was a decent paycheck every two weeks. I had an apartment with my best friend, and we had already planned on moving to Seattle when we finished school. I was looking into publishing and Kate… well, I couldn't keep up with Kate's interest of the week.

And no—I did not have a boyfriend. It's not that I wasn't interested in men; I just hadn't come across one that truly appealed to me. For the moment, I was perfectly fine with just having a few close guy friends. I mean, honestly, where's the damage in that?

Though, thinking back on it, they probably should have been the healthier choice for me, but at the time I didn't see it that way. I saw them strictly as friends, and nothing more. And I was good at doing that, at being oblivious to hormones deep inside me.

Well, that is until _he_ came along. I frequently ask myself: why was it that the one man who I actually find breathtakingly beautiful is the same one who turns me on? Why is it that he was the one I fell for? I knew ahead of time that if I was with him, I'd wind up with a broken heart and a complicated mess of a relationship, yet I chose to ignore that little voice in my head.

So why did I do it?

Because in the deepest realms of my mind, I was as much a masochist as he was a sadist. And that was exactly why we were as perfect for each other as we were destructive.

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><p>"You're not playing fair," I whispered, fighting tears. How could I have let my feelings develop this way? I had <em>sworn <em>to not let this happen.

His gaze darkened. "I warned you," he responded. Though his eyes were hard as stone, his voice was deceptively soft. He reached out, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger, but carefully not touching me. Instinctively, I leaned into him, my breath catching as he skimmed by collarbone. He jerked his hand back again, letting it drop to his side.

I swallowed as I tried to focus on our conversation, but there was nothing left to say. I glanced down at myself, still in my work clothes. I brushed myself off and stood up. "I guess I'll be going then," I murmured quietly.

He rose gracefully to his feet. I was mesmerized by his movements. "You don't have to leave. You could stay," he said, grasping my waist and pulling me to him.

I really wanted to stay, to allow myself for a fleeting moment to lie contently in his arms and believed that we could be something more than what we were, but I would only be lying to myself and breaking my own heart.

I knew where this would lead if I stayed. And I knew how I would feel after. And if I didn't stop it now, I would never end it at all…

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><p>Three months earlier<p>

"Ana!" My roommate, Kate called from her bedroom. She had been confined to the vicinities of her bed for nearly a week now. Her voice was groggy and hoarse.

I smiled to myself at the thought of the pristine Katherine Kavanagh not looking her absolute best. I peeked my head into her bedroom. "Yes, Kate?"

I couldn't see her amongst her thick comforter and too many pillows to count, until she lifted her head. Her usually styled, glossy hair was pulled up in a ponytail on top of her head, matted on one side from sleep. Her nose and cheeks were flushed red. "Can you do me a favor?"

I rolled my eyes, already prepared to head to the kitchen for her. "Do you want more soup? I made more for you…" my voice trailed off when I saw her shaking her head.

"No, it's very important," she mumbled, pausing to wipe her nose with a tissue.

I frowned at her, coming further into her room. "Then why ask me?"

She attempted a snort, only resorting in a fit of coughs. She glanced at me with wide green eyes,

miserable and exhausted. "Because I don't trust anyone else with this."

I raised my eyebrows. "What are you—,"

"You know that interview I have at Grey Enterprises Holdings tomorrow, right?"

I nodded warily. She was on to something.

"Well, I don't think I'll be well enough to go—,"

I knew my answer before she finished asking. "Don't even ask me to go. I won't do it. You can get your sick self out of bed and do it if it's that important to you."

Kate stuck out her lower lip. "But that's the thing—it's not _that_ important to me. I just applied for the hell of it. Now, I'd rather you go and take my place than him give it to someone else."

"I have a job, Kate."

She sat up incredibly fast. _Too _fast. When I narrowed my eyes, I saw that she her eyes were disoriented and unfocused. When she could focus again, it was on me.

"Ana, if you got this job, you'd be in Seattle, close to where we'd be living! Because you can't have a job here while living in Seattle," she reasoned.

I scoffed, thinking this over. I could choose to fill in for her at this interview, saying she handed it to me, with the possibility of getting a job close to our new place. Or I could just move there without a job… I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Several people got an interview, so what are the odds I'd get the job anyway?

I glared at Kate. "Fine. I'll do it."

She threw her arms around me. "You're the best, Ana!"

I pushed her off me, scowling. "I know. Now… do you have anything prepared that I could use?"

She grinned her pearly white smile and motioned toward her back, indicating that this conversation was over.

My hair refused to cooperate. It wouldn't lay straight, but it had no volume, either. I opted for a ponytail, along with black slacks and a white button down, with a black blazer on top. Nothing wrong with classic, right?

Being as graceless as a human could possibly be, I chose black flats over heels. I wouldn't want to die before I even got there.

Kate was generous enough to lend me her Mercedes for the trip to Seattle. When I got in, I grinned at the smoothness of it compared to my old, beat-up Beetle. I took off, trying to relax my mind as I raced toward the city.

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><p>Parking was a nightmare. I looped the streets surrounding the GEH building several times before parking in a parking garage. A glance at the clock said I had twenty minutes until the interview started, so I hurried toward the building, making it ten minutes before the interview.<p>

I opened the steel and glass doors—and froze. The inside was intimidating, with dark wood and dark floors, but white walls. The contrast threw me off at first. All the people bustling about were wearing sharp suits, and I was suddenly grateful for the outfit I'd chosen.

I approached the large mahogany desk, trying to seem more confident than I felt. The woman who sat there was blonde, her hair pulled back into a neat bun, her makeup flawless. I flushed, feeling self-conscious.

"Can I help you?" she asked kindly, yet distantly. Her smile did not reach her eyes.

"I, um, have an interview with Mr. Grey," I stammered.

Her brown eyes narrowed, her lips pursing as she took in my appearance. "Name?"

"Kate—um, Katherine Kavanagh," I said.

The woman cocked an eyebrow at me. "It says here the interview was changed to a Miss Anastasia Steele."

_Shit. Kate!_ "Yes, that's me. Do you need identification?"

She shook her head. "Follow this hallway to the elevators on the left, go to the top floor. There's a receptionist desk there, give them your name."

I nodded and thanked her, then attempted to follow her directions. Once at the top floor, I immediately found the desk I was pointed to. A blonde woman dressed in a gray pencil skirt and blazer approached me, her expression friendly and warm.

"Miss Steele?"

I nodded. "Yes?"

"Would you like anything to drink while you wait? Mr. Grey will be with you in a few minutes."

I cleared my throat quietly. "Just some water, please."

She smiled at me, then turned to look at another young—blonde—woman. "Olivia, could you get Miss Steele some water?"

Olivia scrambled away as the first blonde woman motioned for me to sit down in a waiting area. Olivia reappeared with a glass of cool water. I gratefully took a sip of it, and went over my notes as I waited.

All too soon, the first woman walked over to me, her heels clacking on the tile floor. "Mr. Grey will see you now," she said.

I smiled nervously at her, following her to a pair of tall closed doors. She motioned for me to enter. I rolled my shoulders back, taking a deep breath—and remembering that even if I didn't get this internship, I wasn't betting my whole future on it.

It gave me the last boost of confidence I needed.

I pushed open the doors, prepared to enter.

And then I managed to do something only Anastasia Steele would do.

I tripped over thin air, unable to catch myself. My arms flailed before catching myself—and then I was on the cool floor. I was tempted to lie there and die of humiliation. My face was instantly hot, and the coolness of the floor was refreshing.

Knowing I needed to get up, I pushed myself to my hands and knees and glanced up… right into a pair of mesmerizing gray eyes, looking down at me, slightly vexed and definitely amused. I was suddenly lost in beauty of the man standing before me. He was tall, broad-shouldered, tousled copper hair…

_No. _

I forced my wayward thoughts onto a different track. My interview. I'm here for an interview.

"Miss Steele? Are you alright?" The man asked.

I cleared my throat, taking his outstretched hand. He helped me to my feet. I nodded. "Yes, thank you, Mr.—,"

He smiled with amusement, but without warmth. "Grey. Christian Grey," he introduced.

I felt all the blood drain from my face. I just fell head-first into _Christian Grey's_ office.

Well, there goes my chance at the internship.

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><p><strong>Hello again! So... how was this chapter? Would you like to read more?<strong>

**Please, read and review! :)**

**I just finished my very first story on here, a total of 35 chapters, and what kept me going was my readers and reviewers. I'd like to say the same about this one!**

**Xoxo, and until next time,**

**Caitlyn**


	2. The Interview

**Hi everyone! So I actually updated fairly quickly... Which I don't usually update within a few days. It's usually about a week in between updates. But you guys got lucky!**

**So I know right now that it's very similar to the original book, but I think starting next chapter, it'll veer off into the idea I'm trying to form in my head right now.**

**I'll start replying to individual reviews once they start getting more specific, but until then, thank you for everyone who follows/favorite/reviewed this story already! You guys are awesome. I was out of service for 2 days and came back and had so many notifications from FanFiction.**

**I felt extremely happy.**

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and review at the end please! :)**

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><p><em>Chapter Song:<em>

_La La La by Sam Smith Feat. Naughty Boy_

_(I liked this song because the lyrics kind of portray irritation to the other party. Also because the lyrics say he doesn't mean to judge, but curiosity and agitation show through. At least, that's what I gather from it.)_

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

Ana

I squirmed under the intense stare of Christian Grey. I felt extremely uncomfortable around him, yet I found that I had trouble looking away from him. He really was incredibly handsome, and so young to own such a large business!

Once he had helped me up and introduced himself, he guided me to modern white couches in his office. I was distracted by the size of his office, how large it was, and the breathtaking view of Seattle before me. The far side of the room was all glass, providing a panoramic view of the city.

From the couches, before the interview started, I admired the artwork hanging on the walls. Classic, simple, and familiar. I recognized a few of them immediately. One had a green bridge with thin supporting beams, with a pond and lily pads underneath it, and the other had circles in a sky—obviously representing stars—and rolling hills.

"Van Gogh and Claude Monet," I murmured without realizing I spoke aloud at first.

Mr. Grey glanced at me in surprise. He stood by the window beside his large, masculine desk. "You know of these paintings?" he wondered.

I smiled faintly. "I took Art History my sophomore year at WSU. One of my favorite subjects," I admitted. Then I frowned. "Though I must admit, judging by the modern architecture of both the interior and exterior of your business, I would've pegged you as a man who preferred abstract artwork."

He raised an eyebrow.

I flushed, glancing away from him. _Caught staring_. "I took Psychology as well."

He walked toward me, sitting across from me. As he did, he unbuttoned his dark gray suit jacket. "Then you must know how to read people, judging by your earlier comment." It wasn't a question.

More blood rushed to my face. Thinking he was offended, I immediately felt the need to explain myself. "I apologize immensely if I offended you, Mr. Grey. It was just this stupid thing that came to mind that I remembered studying about. Sometimes I say things without fully thinking them through," I babbled. _Shit. Babbling is bad._

He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, cleverly attempting to hide his smirk by running his thumb across his lower lip. "I was just joking, Miss Steele."

"Oh," was all I managed. I looked down at my lap, feeling embarrassed once again. How was I supposed to know he was messing around? Christian Grey hardly seems like a man to joke with.

"Now, shall we get on with this interview, Miss Steele?" he asked.

I nodded.

"So, tell me, why are you interested in being an intern at Grey Holdings?"

I blanched. _Damn it, Kate._ I hardly knew anything about his business, aside from what I had researched… That's what I had to do. Bullshit some answer based on what I'd researched. Or use my English major skills to come up with a good answer.

"Well, Mr. Grey," I began, already feeling an answer coming to me. "I think what interests me most about Grey Holdings is the man behind the curtain," I said, immediately realizing what I'd said. His lips twitched. My eyes widened, and I scrambled to fix my answer.

"I mean that in the least creepy way possible, I swear. What I meant was how someone of such a young age was able to achieve such success, especially in such a society that we live in, where you have to have a college degree to do just about anything. I admire your determination and work ethic, and I believe that an internship here would be a positive influence and provide me a good role model as I begin my life in the real world." I exhaled sharply when I finished, impressed with myself for such a good save.

Mr. Grey leaned back in his chair, rubbing his perfectly shaved chin. "Well, Miss Steele, it appears that you've done your homework. Would you consider yourself a hard worker?"

I flushed. I hated having to talk about myself like this. I always felt pompous. "Um, I think so," I mumbled. He raised his perfect eyebrows again, looking at me curiously. "I-I mean yes. Yes, I consider myself a hard worker. I maintained a 4.0 GPA in both high school and through college. I've been at the same job for all four years of college."

He nods and meets my gaze, smoldering gray to bashful blue. I fought the urge to flush again. Right, eye contact is important in an interview. Smile. Good posture.

As discreetly as possible, I sat up straighter, if that was even possible for me.

He tilted his head to the side, a gesture I found oddly attractive. I forced down the sudden lump in my throat as he spoke. "If you were to receive this internship, and follow through with it, what are you interested in doing after?"

_Oh._ An easy question. Thank God.

"I'd like to go into publishing. Seattle has some really great opportunities for that."

"English major?" he asked, no surprise in his tone.

"Yes. And I'll take publishing however I can get it; whether I'm working there, or getting a book published, I'll be fine and dandy."

_Fine and dandy? What the hell?_

As he pondered this for a moment, I took the chance to ask _him_ a question. Isn't there a rule somewhere that people like to talk about themselves? They don't mind when people ask questions about them? I wasn't sure, and Mr. Grey seemed like a very reserved person…

"What I'm curious about, Mr. Grey, is how young you are to have obtained such an… empire, if you will. To what do you owe your success?" I wondered almost innocently, though there was a challenging undercurrent to my voice.

Mr. Grey caught the tone, his eyes flashing with some unnamed emotion. He rambled off some answer that sounded almost rehearsed, but I only caught some of it. He was telling me how it was all about the people you knew and the people who worked for you. He said he knew how to read people, knew exactly how people worked.

I would've known more specifically what he was saying if I wasn't so distracted by his lips while they moved, how perfectly sculpted they were, or how perfectly disheveled his copper colored hair looked. How can someone look so perfect? I frowned, because it just wasn't fair.

He was staring at me. _Shit._ Why was he staring me?

And then I realized he was saying something to me, and I snapped back to the present.

"I beg your pardon?" I said.

He smirked, as if he were enjoying some private joke. "I asked you if you had any more questions."

I smiled shyly, thinking about what he'd said. What had I gathered from all that information? Oh, right. Control. He sounded like he had control over a lot of things. Before I could contain myself, I blurted aloud, "Do you consider yourself a control freak?"

Oh my God. I didn't just ask him that, did I?

Mr. Grey's jaw clenched. "I practice control in every aspect of my life, Miss Steele. Now, must I remind you who is being interviewed here?" he wondered, leaning forward again, almost as if he were about to pounce.

I gulped. _Shit, he's mad._

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><p>Christian<p>

I was already dreading the day before it even really started. I had to give several college graduates—well, almost graduates—interviews today for that damned position. Whose fucking idea was it to have an internship open to such young, inexperienced people?

I frowned. It certainly wasn't _mine._ Actually, now that I think about it, I think it was Andrea who had suggested it. Something about my publicity…

Hell if I know.

As soon as I got to work, I checked over my schedule with Andrew, making sure we were both on the same page about it. We went down the list of students and their interview times.

"Mike Newton is your nine o'clock," she was telling me. "And then your next one is Angela Weber, at eleven. Then you have Anastasia Steele at one, and after that is Eric Yorkie at three. I scheduled them a couple hours apart so you could get work done in between. And also I didn't think that you wanted to deal with them all at once."

I nodded brusquely at her. "Thank you, Andrea." And then I stopped, glancing at my list again, catching an unfamiliar name. "Who is Miss Anastasia Steele?"

Andrea smiled apologetically at me. "Katherine Kavanagh called yesterday and told us Anastasia would be her replacement."

I scowled. I hated surprises, or anything unexpected for that matter. That's why my life was planned out completely. I thanked Andrea again and went into my office to prepare for this dreadful day.

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><p>I don't know how I did it, but I managed to make it through the first two interviews without dying of boredom. Miss Weber and Mr. Newton didn't stand out to me; just more do-gooders who over exaggerated their achievements to make themselves seem better.<p>

How did I know that?

Because I background checked everyone all the students before inviting them for an interview. I also did that before I hired anyone.

But now I had the mysterious Anastasia Steele to prepare for, and I was agitated that I had no idea who she was and had no information on her. I didn't have quite enough time to get a full background check on her, so I settled on knowing nothing.

"I have Miss Steele, Mr. Grey," Andrea said.

I nodded. "Escort her to the door, please," I replied, sighing.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, rising from my desk. I didn't normally do interviews, so this was a rather tedious process for me.

There was a sudden scuffle at the door that made me turn and look. A young woman with long, brown hair, now splayed out on the tile floor, was on her front in the threshold of my office door. Her hands were braced beneath her, and I realized she'd tripped and fallen. I suppressed an annoyed sigh and went to help the poor girl up. She was scrambling to her hands and knees when I got to her, offering her my hands, which she took gratefully.

When she glanced up, I found myself staring into the most beguiling pair of blue eyes. They were light blue, without a single trace of gray in them. There was no green in them either, they were just a pure, powdery blue, and absolutely fascinating. I noticed her wondrous gaze as she stared at me, and my fascination dissipated. I hated attention.

"Miss Steele? Are you alright?" I wondered, somewhat feigning sympathy. I may as well enjoy this interview as best I can.

She cleared her throat and nodded. "Yes, thank you, Mr.—," she paused, her brow furrowing.

Did she really not know who I was?

I smiled with amusement, but I could tell it wasn't friendly. I was not in an affable mood today. "Grey. Christian Grey."

Her small, pretty face paled, making her big blue eyes more profound. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with some stray pieces falling out around front. I wondered how it would like braided…

_Fuck. _No. I couldn't afford to think this way. This woman looked way too young, and frankly much too innocent, for my lifestyle. Or maybe she was just quiet and obedient, just how I liked my submissives…

_What the hell? Where is this coming from?_

I guided Miss Steele over to the couches in my office, hoping to make her feel a little less flustered so I could get this interview over with. While she settled herself, I wandered over to my desk, thinking of the best way to approach her. I tried to read her demeanor as well, try and figure out the kind of person she was, but the way she held herself was…

And for once, I didn't know. And it was slightly frustrating.

I caught her staring distractedly at the paintings hanging on one of my walls, her eyes lighting up with familiarity, as if they were old friends in a place full of strangers.

"Van Gogh and Claude Monet," she said offhandedly, almost as an echo to her thoughts.

She knew the artists? Impressive. Most people didn't know…

"You know of these paintings?" I wondered, looking at her with over exaggerated surprise. Perhaps if I give her a _little_ bit of confidence, she'll relax…

_I bet I could make her relax in other ways…_

Dammit. I needed to get my shit together. Just because her cheeks were a nice, flushed color, and her brown hair—

I stopped myself right there, choosing instead to focus on Miss Steele. She smiled slightly and bit down on her lower lip. My eyes were instantly drawn to her lips, a small, pouty mouth, pink and soft-looking…

"I took Art History my sophomore year at WSU," she was saying, and then she mentioned something about her thinking I would be one to prefer abstract artwork. Which she was right, because my apartment _did_ contain plenty of abstract artwork—and not just in the canvas-painting style.

Miss Steele's cheeks turned even darker when I raised an eyebrow at her. "I took Psychology as well," she explained.

And I wanted to laugh, which was strange. Why did she feel the need to explain herself to me? We knew nothing about each other.

I took a seat in front of her, conjuring up a witty comment just to be a little shit. "Then you must know how to read people, judging by your earlier comment." _There._ Maybe that'll make her squirm.

It brought more of that delicious flush across her cheeks, and she stammered an apology, rambling a little too much about how she doesn't think before she acts.

Cute.

"I was just joking, Miss Steele," I admitted coolly. "Now, shall we get on with this interview, Miss Steele?"

She bit down on her lip again, stirring something deep inside me that caused me to shift slightly. She nodded.

I asked her the most basic question: why was she interested in Grey Holdings? She didn't exactly have her shit together, so I was curious as to what her answer would be. And let me say, I was not disappointed in the slightest. Actually, I found I was quite entertained.

"Well, Mr. Grey, I think what interests me most about Grey Holdings is the man behind the curtain," she admitted. Her eyes widened when I fought to suppress a grin. "I mean that in the least creepy way possible, I swear. What I meant was how someone of such a young age was able to achieve such success, especially in such a society that we live in, where you have to have a college degree to do just about anything. I admire your determination and work ethic, and I believe that an internship here would be a positive influence and provide me a good role model as I begin my life in the real world."

_Oh, baby, I'd hardly say I was either of those things, but you can keep dreaming… as long as it's about me._

Okay, I seriously needed to reign it in. Anastasia Steele was clearly not going to cut it, though she was quite alluring. She seemed smart, resourceful, and pretty… beautiful, even. She was dressed in cheap black slacks, a white button down, and a black blazer, with black flats. Classy enough, though I'm sure I could dress her better.

Trying to control my wayward thoughts, I asked her if she considered herself a hard worker. After stumbling through an uncertain response, I decided that she would be a good fit for this internship. I hadn't exactly planned out what the internship would be like, as I expected Andrea to do that for me, but now I had a lingering sense that I should be the one in charge of her, and not just in the office.

_Jesus, how long had it been since I'd had a submissive?_

Okay, next topic. What was this woman planning on doing? Did she say what her major was? I didn't think so…

"I'd like to go into publishing. Seattle has some really great opportunities for that," she said.

I blinked. Had I asked her that question? I guess that's Karma for imagining her handcuffed to the cross in my playroom… Dammit, that annoyed me. I needed to focus, and it was hard to with her in here. This was exactly why I didn't employ brunette women.

"English major?" I asked, because it seemed most fitting.

"Yes. And I'll take publishing however I can get it; whether I'm working there, or getting a book published, I'll be fine and dandy."

_Fine and dandy? When was the last time I heard someone use that?_

"What I'm curious about, Mr. Grey, is how young you are to have obtained such an… empire, if you will. To what do you owe your success?" she asked me out of the blue, pulling me from my revere.

I was tempted to narrow my eyes at her, but then I figured she could try and humor me by asking questions. As unoriginal as the question, so was my answer. I had this one practically memorized. How many times had I answered this? Too many. It's all about the people. The people you know, the people you associate with, the people you work with, for, and who work for you. Blah, blah, blah.

I caught her staring at me with longing. The thought was appealing. So it wasn't just me who was attracted to her, but she was also attracted to me…

_Good. She'll do nicely._

"Will that be all your questions, Miss Steele?" I wondered when she didn't say anything when I finished speaking.

She shook her head, as if to clear it of cobwebs. "I beg your pardon?"

_Is that all you're going to beg me for?_

Fuck.

She smiled shyly. It was adorable. "Do you consider yourself a control freak?"

She did not just ask me that. As my temper flared, I kept my face stoic. What I'd do to bend her over and spank the living shit out of her right here and now. Would her ass turn that fine, rosy color her cheeks are right now? Oh, what I'd do to find out…

"I practice control in every aspect of my life, Miss Steele," I snapped, though I wanted to control _her_ right in that moment. "Now, must I remind you who is being interviewed here?" I leaned forward. I got the satisfying result of her gulping, obviously frightened.

She shook her head in mute silence. "No, sir," she responded politely, halting my thoughts. I stared at her for a moment, a dozen images of different positions and toys I could use on her came to mind. She knew how to press all these buttons on me… I wondered what kind of pleasure she would bring me…

I blinked to clear my head, and then stood. She rose immediately after me, looking embarrassed. "Well, Miss Steele, it was a pleasure to have you. Shall I walk you to the door?"

She nodded, still silent, and followed me to the door. I opened it for her, and she strolled out, gracefully this time. Andrea and Olivia stared bewilderedly at me, and I just rolled my eyes.

"Did you bring a jacket, Miss Steele?"

She shook her head, her brown hair bobbing. "No, it was nice when I left this morning."

"Do you plan on driving back to Vancouver today?" I asked, frowning when I saw that it was raining outside now. I didn't approve of her not wearing a jacket, or of her driving so far, but I couldn't do anything about that.

_Yet…_

I would find a way for Anastasia Steele to be my submissive.

I pressed the button for the elevators, and we stood side by side. There was a small charge between us, though whether it was from chemistry or the awkwardness of not quite knowing each other, I wasn't sure. But one thing I was sure of, when she stepped onto that elevator, it sure as hell wouldn't be the last time I saw her. I knew in that moment that she would get that internship, and then I'd have a reason to see her all the time. But didn't I make it a rule to not fuck in the business place?

The elevator arrive, and Anastasia turned to face me when she stepped on.

I nodded at her. "Anastasia."

"Christian," she responded.

And then she was gone.

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><p><strong>Yeah, yeah...<strong>

**Cliche cliff hanger! I know! But I'll start working on the next chapter soon, I swear. :)**

**So, what did you guys think? Please let me know if you think I should continue writing this... I'm unsure right now, so as much encouragement and positive feedback as possible would be great!**

**Please review! The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll be to update!  
><strong>

**Until next time!**

**Xoxo,**

**Caitlyn**


	3. Unexpected Meeting

****Hello everyone! So, just a quick thank you to everyone who reviewed! Again, they were all kind of the same, so I'll start reviewing them when my story starts branching off into its own. You have no idea how much I greatly appreciate hearing from you all! Feel free to PM me for any questions! :)****

**Also, I know this chapter is really short but I knew I had to update so this is what I have so far... And it's kind of a cliffhanger. Enjoy! :)**

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><p><em><span>Chapter Song:<span>_

_"Every Breath You Take" by The Police_

_(Well, this should be obvious, right? Because of Christian and his stalking tendencies!)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Christian

I woke suddenly, gasping for air. I was tangled in my sheets; they were twisted around my legs from tossing and turning in my sleep. Sweat plastered my curls to my forehead. I could feel beads of it rolling down my back, my temples, my neck.

I grasped the hem of my shirt and wiped my face with it, then yanked off the fabric and tossed it on the floor. Disentangling myself from my sheets, I stumbled to the bathroom. I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on my face. When I glanced up into the mirror, I cringed.

Though I hated to admit it, I saw some of _her_in me. Grimacing, I thought of the single photo I had of her at my parents' house. It may have been the only tangible thing I had of hers, but the intangible memories overruled it.

I shuddered, then sauntered out into the great room of my apartment. Sitting down on the bench of my piano, my fingers settled effortlessly over the keys. A melody so familiar, so melancholy, so fitting, flowed from the piano. In cases such as this, there were explicit activities I was used to doing to control my emotions.

And just like that, her blue eyes flashed across my vision. I closed my eyes, trying to lock the image in my head, but it was fleeting and disappeared. I conjured up another image of her: her cheeks flushed, fidgeting on the couch in my office nearly two weeks ago.

I groaned, and stood. The abrupt movement caused the piano to ring out a wrong note. I turned my back on it and retrieved my phone from my bedroom. I dialed my security advisor without a second thought.

"Mr. Grey," he answered brusquely. Clearly he was awake, despite the unreasonable hour.

"Welch," I barked. "I need you to do a background check on a Miss Anastasia Steele."

"Yes, Mr. Grey. Is there anything else?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose, then ran my hand through my hair. "No. Get it to me as soon as possible." I hung up the phone, pacing back and forth in my spacious office. What the hell was I supposed to do while I waited?

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><p>I stared at the piece of paper in front of me. It was a full debriefing of Miss Steele's past. SAT scores, GPA, address, social security number—the whole nine yards, really. I mentally calculated how I could reasonably see her again. She was still in school, preparing for finals, as I was under the impression of. I mean, I <em>was<em> speaking at their graduation ceremony this year.

Okay, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to see her at her graduation in a month. I frowned. I didn't want to wait that long. I picked up my phone.

"Andrea, do I have anything planned down in Portland before WSU's graduation?"

"No, Mr. Grey. However, you were supposed to go speak to the dean about your farming technology down there," she replied.

"Great. Schedule me to go down there sometime within the next few days."

I returned to staring at the file Welch had given me. An idea hit me suddenly: I could show up at her work…

I smirked. Oh, that would throw her off for sure. Would she be more flustered than she was during her interview?

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><p>I sat in the parking lot of the hardware store Miss Steele worked at, Clayton's. I had insisted on flying down to Portland in my helicopter. I caressed my steering wheel, clenching and unclenching the leather beneath my fingers. Was Anastasia even here?<p>

Sighing, I climbed out of my car and strolled across the parking lot without a second thought. The automatic doors opened, and a burst of warm air hit me as I entered. I nonchalantly walked down one of the aisles, pretending to look at the merchandise. I moved on from the aisle and very nearly ran right into… Miss Steele.

She came to an abrupt halt in front of me, her eyes widening in disbelief, her face paling, and her jaw dropping as she looked at me. "Mr. … Grey?" she stammered.

I smirked at her. She wore a long sleeve white t-shirt, cut fairly low, and dark jeans. "Miss Steele. What a pleasant surprise. You work here?" I wondered with faux innocence.

She dropped her gaze from mine. I was tempted to force her to look at me. "Um, yes. It would appear so," she muttered petulantly.

I raised an eyebrow at her, but decided to drop her mood shift. "How is school going?"

Finally, some color returned to her cheeks and she smiled shyly—adorably—up at me. "It's fine. Finals week is this week. Then graduation."

I tilted my head to the side. "Yes, that's right. I'm doing a speech for WSU's graduation ceremony."

Miss Steele blinked in surprise. "Is that why you're in Portland?"

_No, Miss Steele. I'm here because of you. Because I can't get you out of my damned head._

"Yes," I lied. "There are still a few… details that need to be coordinated with the dean."

She nodded, then finally seemed to recover from some reverie. She rolled her shoulders back. "So, can I help you with anything in the store?"

_Shit. I hadn't thought too much about this. Think on your toes, Grey!_

"Oh, yes. I need some paint."

_For my Playroom._

Now that I think about it, it could definitely use a fresh color on the walls. The red was a little too bright for me.

"Home decorating?" she wondered as she turned on her heel and made her way expertly through the aisles.

"Something like that," I responded, admiring the view of her fine ass.

We turned onto the paint aisle, and we both looked at all the color options.

"Any specific color?"

I grinned wickedly.

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><p>Ana<p>

Seeing Christian Grey in Clayton's very nearly gave me a coronary. At first, I thought I was going crazy, seeing people that weren't really there.

It didn't take long for me to realize this wasn't the case.

I self-consciously led him toward the paint section. Now that he'd seen where I worked, what I did in my past time, would this affect his decision for the damn internship? Or had he already made a decision, and that was why I hadn't received anything in two weeks?

My sudden disappointment through me off guard. I hadn't realized that a small part of me had been hoping to obtain this job…

"Any specific color?" I asked him, trying to distract myself, and stopping in front of the color wall. We both stared at them. I glanced over at him to see him smiling deviously.

"I need a dark red," he responded, looking down his nose at me.

Who would paint their house, or room, dark red? An involuntary giggle escaped my lips, causing him to look at me in surprise.

"Is that amusing, Miss Steele?" he exclaimed, his eyes alight with bitter humor.

I immediately stopped, lowering my eyes. "No, I'm sorry." I turned and walked to the red section, picking up a few darker shades. He intently looked at the ones I had picked up before reaching out and gently plucking one from my fingers. It was a cross between maroon and brick red, called _Carmine._

"This will do nicely, Miss Steele," he said distractedly, still looking at the color card.

I bit my lip as I took the opportunity to look at his features: his long lashes brushing gently against his cheeks bones, the crescents of his startling gray eyes visible from underneath his lashes, his artfully sculptured pouty lips, parted slightly…

Suddenly he turn to look at me, and I knew I was caught. He smiled at me, but his eyes were blazing with some unnamed emotion.

I cleared my throat. "So, how much would you like me to mix up for you?"

He shrugged, as if he truly had no idea. "Five gallons, maybe?"

"Okay. You can wait here if you'd like."

"I'll come with you, if that's okay."

I nodded, then started down the aisle again. I spotted Paul Clayton, an infrequent employee, as he was constantly traveling, dressed and ready for work. I smiled tightly at him, and his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Ana!" he cried, racing toward me and enveloping me in a tight embrace.

I gasped for air, my arms stiff at my sides. "Paul. Hi, nice to see you, too," I choked.

He let go of me, then held me at arms length. "Oh, sorry, Ana. I always forget you're so small and fragile."

I grimaced at him. "I am not fragile."

"So, do you want to go out for dinner with me tonight? Kind of as a welcome back to me."

I groaned inwardly. "Paul, I—," my voice trailed off.

Paul glanced over my shoulder, and I suddenly remembered Mr. Grey. "Oh, you're with a customer."

I hesitated. May as well introduce them. "Paul, this is Christian Grey. Mr. Grey, this is Paul Clayton. He's the son of the owner's of the store."

Paul extended his hand. "Mr. Grey, as in _the_Christian Grey? From Grey Enterprises?"

Mr. Grey returned the handshake with a fake smile. "That would be correct."

"What a pleasure to meet you!" he stated.

I rolled my eyes, and Mr. Grey's eyes narrowed at me slightly. I took advantage of Paul's arrival. "Paul, could you mix five gallons of this color for me? I have to finish helping Mr. Grey." I took the card from Mr. Grey and held it up for Paul.

He nodded and smiled at me. "Of course. I'll have it done as soon as I can." He turned and walked away.

"O-kay," I mumbled, exhaling audibly, and faced Mr. Grey. "Will that be all? Just the pain?"

He was staring after Paul. My question seemed to bring him back to reality, because he refocused on me. "Some masking tape, please." His somewhat cheerful mood was gone.

Miffed, I went to the home decorating aisle and picked up some masking tape, holding it out for him to take. He frowned at it.

"Mr. Grey? Is everything alright?" I wondered.

He nodded. "Absolutely. Is Mr. Clayton a good friend of yours?"

I shook my head. "No, but we've known each other since I started working here. He's a year older than me, so this year he left to travel. He's always been very… attached to me, I suppose."

He seemed to visibly relax. "Do his parents pay for his traveling?"

I pursed my lips. "I imagine so. He's like their prized possession."

Mr. Grey smirked. "Interesting. So, Miss Steele, I was going to contact you, but now that I've got you in person, I don't see why we can't discuss this now."

I swallowed, meeting his smoldering gray gaze. "Whatever you'd like, Mr. Grey. Though, if you want to wait until I get off work, we can discuss this then. If you're not busy, that is," I added quickly. But… I hardly knew this man, and I was agreeing to meet with him later to discuss… something?

"When are you off work?"

I glanced down at my watch. It was four in the afternoon. "I'm off in two hours."

He smiled at me. "Shall I meet you somewhere then? Or do you need a ride?"

Feeling bold and courageous, and simply because Kate had given me a ride to work today, I said, "If you don't mind, Mr. Grey, I can ride with you."

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><p><strong> Soooooo what did you guys think? Let me know I'm your review! :) Your opinions matter most to me! what do you like, dislike? What do you guys want to read, or what should I change?<strong>

**I promise it will branch off soon. **

**Also... I don't think I've ever gotten this many reviews in such a short amount of time... And I'm kind of trying to beat record, so please review so I know what you guys want! :)**

**Oh and... PM me if you'd like! For questions or comments, feel free too!**

**I'll see you guys soon!**

**Xoxo,**

**Caitlyn :)**


	4. Dinner Date

**Hello! So I know I kind of dropped off the grid for a while. Believe me, that's very rare of me to do. But I've had a crazy busy schedule that has me constantly on the go. I just returned from a trip down to the lower 48 (that's what us Alaskans call it) where I spent some time in Seattle and Portland, and the cookie-cutter towns in between, touring college campuses.**

**So, because I know there were some questions on me as a writer, yes I'm very young. I'm 17, and graduate high school in a few months. **

**Anyway! Most of the reviews I got were kind of the same, so thank you to everyone who did! I get a few sporadically still, and it's kind of pushed me into gear to get going on this again. My schedule is still really crazy and busy, as I am taking 10 classes this semester and actively involved in my high school's dance team, which we compete in a month and a half.**

**Again, thank you all so much for your reviews. I hope you continue to do so, and enjoy what I've written! I'll do my best to update sooner, I swear!**

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><p><span><em>Chapter Song:<em>

_"Why Can't I?" by Liz Phair_

_(There are a few lines in this song that really make me think of Christasia in the beginning of their relationship, AKA right now.)_

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Ana

Half an hour before I was scheduled to get off work, Kate arrived at the store. The panic, excited look on her face made me feel guilty for texting her without an explanation as to why I was freaking out. I was glad she was here though, because she would give me that little extra boost I needed to get through this dinner.

"So what's going on?" she demanded, following me down various aisles as I pretended to be checking inventory.

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Christian Grey showed up before I texted you, inviting me to dinner. I needed a change of clothes and a confidence boost," I mumbled.

Suddenly Kate was in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. Her mouth was opened slightly in shock. "Do you mean—,"

"Yes, I mean Christian Grey from the interview."

Her pouty mouth melted into a smirk. She glanced around us, then leaned in toward me. "Do you think he was following you?"

I jerked back from her. "What? No! He has some business with WSU. He's speaking at our graduation ceremony. He stopped by for some home decorating supplies."

She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Really, Ana? Sometimes I swear you're about as naive as a toddler."

I frowned at her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Think about it. He's an extremely successful business entrepreneur who lives in _Seattle_. First of all, why would he, no offense, buy from a place like Clayton's, when he could have some expensive interior designer do it for him?"

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe it's a hobby?"

Kate held up a finger. "And second, why would he buy it in Portland of all places? It's a three hour drive to Seattle. It just doesn't make sense."

As her words settled in my head, I started to see her point. Maybe he _was_—

No. Christian Grey has no reason to follow anyone around, least of all me. I'm sure it was just out of courtesy.

"You make an interesting point, Kate. Now, do you have something flattering for me to wear?"

She dropped the subject and flashed me a dazzling smile, holding up a small pink bag. "Enjoy, my dear. I'll see you after?"

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><p>I tried in a vain attempt to tame my hair, but it was in an uncooperative mood. I gave up and examined the outfit Kate had picked out for me. She had brought my favorite jeans—dark, tight-fitting, bootcut—that defined what little curves I had and paired them with a sheer white top, trimmed with lace on the hem and ends of the long, belled-out sleeves, and black flats.<p>

I glanced in the full length mirror, admiring myself. What did it matter what I wore? But I guess in a way I actually _cared _about my appearance—something that had never occurred to me before. I frowned at my image, then, noticing the little V that appeared between my brows, smoothed my expression. A quick glance at my watch put me just past six in the evening.

I walked quickly out of the bathroom, clutching Kate's pink bag and my purse in one hand while using the other to clock out. After parting ways with Paul—and once again turning down his offer to dinner—I made my way toward the front of the store…

Where Mr. Christian Grey stood talking on his Blackberry. He wore a white shirt with no tie, black blazer, and dark jeans. Every bit the CEO he was.

Yet I was nervous. Who did I think I was, going to dinner with someone I'd spoken to twice in my life? Though in all honesty, it's not like he could do much to me without ruining his reputation.

I realized I was gaping at him and quickly refocused my glance before he caught me. I strolled over to him, so that his back was to me, and waiting patiently. I pulled my iPhone out of my purse and scrolled through my text messages. There were a few from my good guy friend, José, attempting to make plans for the night of graduation to go to some local bar, then a few from Kate demanding what was going on, and then after visiting me, wishing me good luck. I had just locked my phone when—

"Miss Steele," Mr. Grey's cool voice said.

I glanced up and smiled briefly at him. "Mr. Grey, nice to see you."

"Likewise," he responded, dipping his head at me. He was about to continue when I interrupted him.

"So," I said, pushing my hair behind my shoulders. "What's the plan?" I wondered, following him out of the automatic doors and into the warm evening.

"The plan, Miss Steele," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Is that I'm going to take you to dinner because I have matters to discuss with you."

I rolled my eyes just as he glanced back at me, causing him to narrow his. "I realize that, Mr. Grey. I meant in terms of where we're going."

He frowned at me, then stopped at a very shiny, very expensive car… and Audi R8 Spyder. In other words, a car I had only dreamed of looking at, and one I had never expected to ride in. I stood, gawking at the car, my jaw slack, looking like a complete idiot.

"Miss Steele? Are you alright?"

I nodded, closing my mouth and rounding the car to the passenger side. I climbed as gracefully as I could inside and admired the interior—smooth, leather, high-end technology… I was in awe, completely and utterly in awe.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again as he started the car. The engine purred to life.

"Yes, of course," I managed. "So, you never answered my question," I added, keeping my eyes on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

He sighed. "A café near the Heathman Hotel. Is that alright with you?"

Mmm, warm coffee and a sandwich sounded perfect. "Yep, that's alright with me."

The drive wasn't long, but I felt uncomfortable and alien in a luxury car with a stranger. He parked the car with ease and pulled the key from the ignition. Needing air and feeling overly warm from some unknown draw to the stranger, I practically bolted from the car and into the welcoming, cooler air of outside.

"Are you going to give me any hint at all as to what you wish to speak to me about?" I asked as he regarded me with curiosity, clearly wondering if I was going to take off running.

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Do you have any patience at all, Miss Steele?"

I grinned up at him, walking by his side on the sidewalk. "I'm not exactly known for patience, but I'm not completely impatient either."

"And why do you think that is?"

I shrugged as he opened the door to a warm, cozy café. I nodded my thanks to him and entered. "I'm not really sure," I responded. "I suppose I just like to know things."

"Ever eager for new information?"

"I guess you could say that," I mumbled.

He smiled at me before turning to the hostess and asking for a booth for two. The poor girl stood and stared at him for a moment, her cheeks flushing, her eyelashes fluttering. I rolled my eyes at her lack of subtlety but quietly followed the two of them to a corner booth with dim lighting.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" the girl asked Mr. Grey, completely ignoring me.

Before he could respond, I said, "Yes, I'll have a Twinings English Afternoon Tea, please." I flushed at my outburst, but held my ground as the girl scowled at me. In my peripheral vision, I noticed the corners of Mr. Grey's lips turn up.

"I'll just take a black coffee, thanks," he said brusquely, then turned to me, clearly dismissing the girl. She scampered away without another word.

"Another impatience moment for you, Miss Steele?"

I huffed. "Don't mock me, Mr. Grey. So, we're here now. What did you wish to speak to me about?"

Finally realizing I wasn't going to give this up, he sat back in the booth. "I was very impressed with your interview. I'd like to offer you the summer internship at Grey House."

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><p>Christian<p>

I carefully analyzed Anastasia's reaction to my proposal of the internship. At first, as she was sipping at her glass of water, she choked on it. When I proceeded to ask if she was alright, she ignored it.

"_You_ want _me_ to intern for you?" she demanded, her blue eyes wide with befuddlement.

I frowned at her, trying to gauge the meaning behind her reaction. Was she laughing at me? Did she think I was joking with her?

"Is there something wrong with that?" I challenged, tilting my head to the side.

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I suppose not. I'm just perplexed as to why you chose me. I was a mess during the interview."

I smirked at her. That's _why_ I wanted her to intern for me. Okay, so maybe that wasn't the _only _reason. I had to reassure her, make her feel confident in herself so she would accept the offer.

"Miss Steele, I appreciated that you weren't necessarily prepared for it," I told her, reveling in her cheeks flushing. "Every other student I interviewed was overly confident and quite frankly, for lack of better words, too kiss-ass for my taste. I like that you speak your mind. I think your innovation would be a great asset to my team."

Anastasia gaped at me for a moment, letting my words sink in, before she responded. "And how big, exactly, _is_ your team?"

I smiled at her. "I employ about forty-thousand people. But I have a small team who I correspond with on the daily, one of which could be you if you accepted the position. That is, of course, why you interviewed to begin with, correct?"

She sighed. "Yes, but I wasn't expecting to actually obtain the job. I was just filling in for my friend, as I was volunteered for it."

"Well, I'm glad it was you who interviewed for the position," I admitted. Her eyes widened and her lips parted as she gasped, and then the waitress was there, setting down our drinks. She turned to me, blinking excessively.

"Can I get you anything to eat?" she wondered.

I stifled a smile as Anastasia rolled her eyes. Oh, what I'd love to do to her if she rolled her eyes at me while she was mine…

"Yes, I'll take the fettuccine," I said, keeping my attention on Anastasia. She squirmed under my stare.

"I'll have the chicken club sandwich, please," she murmured, glancing down at the table nervously.

The waitress eyed Anastasia speculatively before turning to walk away, if not but a little too provocatively.

"Does that normally happen to you?" Anastasia wondered suddenly.

"Does what normally happen?"

"Women swooning over you."

I shrugged, offended for some unknown reason. "I don't particularly notice it, if it happens at all. Besides, it's just a physical appearance. I doubt they would 'swoon' if they knew what was on the inside."

She frowned. "Why do you say that?"

I sighed, becoming frustrated with her questions, but decided to tell her anyway. "There are people in this world…" I paused, searching for the words. "There are people who would say that I don't have a heart."

She leaned forward on her elbows, keen for more information, but also looking troubled. "Why would anyone say that about someone else?"

I tilted my head to the side. "Because they know me well. And there aren't many people who do."

She circled her finger around the rim of her glass, her eyes following it. "I get the feeling that that's not true at all. Sounds more like self-criticism."

Her audacity made me want to spank the shit out of her, but I instead just clenched my jaw, opening my mouth to respond.

"But hey, what do I know about your life?" she said. "Next to nothing. It's all matter of opinion for someone who doesn't know you."

My agitation receding to the corners of my mind. "Are you challenging me, Miss Steele?"

She smiled at me coyly. "And if I am?"

"Then you're in for a world of surprises," I said, though she had no idea what I had in mind. She bit her lip, and my eyes zeroed in on it. Why did that turn me on so much?

"Well, Mr. Grey, it seems you've got yourself a new intern."

My heart flipped. I grinned wolfishly at her. "Great. When would you like to start?"

She seemed to calculate something in her head. "Well I have to give Clayton's two weeks' notice, plus I have finals all next week, then graduation. After that I have to pack and get my stuff moved over to the new apartment… so I would say in two weeks?"

_Two fucking weeks?_

"Whatever works for you, Miss Steele."

She bit her lip again and flushed. And before I could stop myself, I reached across the table, grasped her jaw, and pulled her lip from between her teeth. She gasped at my touch, and I wanted to do so much more to her than just this.

"You make it very hard for me to focus when you bite your lip, Anastasia," I snapped, releasing her unwillingly. Her skin was so soft and warm. I was aware that I had used her name, yet I didn't feel inclined to apologize for it.

All I could focus on was planning my next step with her.

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><p><strong>I apologize for the shortness of the chapter but I needed to give you guys something!<strong>

**So, what did you guys think? Please leave any comments, requests, and thoughts in a review! I greatly appreciate you guys doing so!**

**What do you think of their ship name: Christasia?**

**Thank you to Rosiekin for that one!**

**Anyway, thank you for taking the time to read it! I'll update soon!**

**Xoxo!**

**Caitlyn**


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